


Flashes of Remembrance

by ranereins (shadowintime)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:09:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1956228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowintime/pseuds/ranereins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flashes of memory have begun to come to Bucky, but they're only that... flashes. He wishes he could remember more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flashes of Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd. Written for the weekly writing challenge at [Game of Cards](http://gameofcards.livejournal.com). The prompt was this photo:
> 
> Spoilers for Captain America: The Winter Soldier... just in case someone hasn't seen it yet. 

Bucky crouched on the ledge of the rooftop of the building across the street from Steve’s apartment building. He stared through one of Steve’s windows, watching this man that now seemed so familiar but still so far away, a distant memory. Flashes of memory had been coming to him since he’d pulled Steve from that river, but they remained only that, flashes and none of them made much sense. In the flashes of memory he got of Steve, Steve was so small, so fagile… nothing like the powerhouse of a man he’d tried for days to kill.

He could remember having to pull boys twice his size off of Steve, but not why they were beating on the poor boy in the first place. He could remember smiling at Steve and throwing his arm around the kid’s shoulders, pulling him through the masses in what appeared to be a fair of some sort. It made his heart ache with a love he couldn’t comprehend, a sort of love that made his entire body hurt with the loss of it, that made his existence feel meaningless without it.

The strongest memory that he had of him and Steve, they couldn’t have been more than five years old and they were running down the streets of Brooklyn in the rain. Steve was slightly ahead of him, but only because Bucky allowed him to be; in truth, he could run laps around Steve. Steve smiled back at him, eyes alight and sparkling as he yelled, “You’ll never catch me!” “Oh yes I will!” he’d yelled back. Bucky couldn’t remember why he was chasing Steve, and in the rain no less, but the memory filled him with joy so he knew that it must have been something wonderful.

The one thing that he could remember about that, however, was that days later Steve had come down with the worst cold of his life because they had been running in the chilly rain. Every cough took the boy’s breath away and everyone was clearly terrified that he wouldn’t be able to get it back. Bucky could remember kneeling beside Steve’s bed, taking his friend’s hand in his and saying “I’m sorry” as hot tears ran down his cheeks.

“For what?” Steve had asked weakly, small smile gracing his lips.

“I should have known better… I know how easily you get sick.” Bucky stared down at their joined hands, no longer able to stand looking at his friend in the eyes.

“If I avoided everything that made me sick, I’d never leave the house,” he replied with a small chuckle that sent him into a fit of coughs. “No matter, I’ll never regret anything we do together.”

Bucky brushed tears away from his eyes before they fell. These memories were important, but no less painful. He didn’t like those so much, he liked the happy ones… the ones of Steve smiling at him like he was the best thing in the world, like he was the only person in the world that mattered. After all he’d done as the Winter Soldier, as the mindless killing machine he’d been made to be, those were the memories that kept him together, the ones that gave him hope that he might be redeemed.

Bucky hadn’t remembered anything that would explain why Steve had been willing to allow Bucky to kill him rather than him just kill Bucky, but he had hope that at some point he would. He knew it had to be something extraordinary, something beyond just being childhood friends because who would be willing to die at someone’s hands, old friend or not. He stared through the window at Steve; he looked so peaceful sitting in an armchair in a corner, reading a book. No, Steve _was_ the type to die in such a way; he was just too good of a man. Still, it seemed like there was something more to it, something that Bucky hadn’t remembered yet, something that was just out of reach.

Steve cocked his head to the side, as if considering something for a moment before turning his head completely and looking out the window. Bucky tipped his chin up and froze as he waited to see if Steve would spot him. Part of him hoped that Steve would see him, that he would come after him and beg him to stop, to stop running, to _come home_. Another part was afraid that he would see Bucky crouched there on that ledge and he would come after him for entirely different reasons or even worse… not care at all. After everything that had happened, Bucky couldn’t imagine him not caring, but some part of him still feared it.

Steve carefully marked the page of his book before laying it aside, stood and stared out the window. He stared straight at Bucky, smiled and waved. Bucky stared at him for several long moments, dumbfounded, before finally giving a small wave back. Steve unlatched the window, raised it, and leaned out. “Hey there,” he called.

Bucky looked over his shoulder, considering making a run for it. He wasn’t prepared for this, hadn’t expected such a turn of events in his wildest dreams. He looked back to Steve and cautiously said “Hello.”

“Are you cold?”

Bucky frowned. Steve continued to surprise him. “What?”

“You’ve been sitting out there for a while… it’s pretty cold out there. Are you cold?”

Bucky shrugged. “A little maybe.”

“You wanna come in for a cup of tea or coffee… something hot to warm you up?” Steve asked with a lopsided, almost amused smile.

A flash of lips against lips and desperate hands grasping at anything they could reach flooded his mind and was gone as quick as it came. Bucky sucked in a startled breath. He finally shook his head. “No, I… I have to go.”

The smile fell from Steve’s face. “Oh, okay. I… I guess I’ll see you around then?”

“Yeah… maybe,” Bucky mumbled, his head nodding slightly.

“The invitation’s always open,” Steve assured him.

“Thanks,” Bucky said before standing and running away. As soon as he felt like he was far enough away, he leaned against the brick wall of a building and breathed deeply as the panic slowly subsided.


End file.
